Well, hello there. This is just a nice little story that has been bugging me for months. I have finally put pen to paper and this is the result.

It's a story of mystery, rumours, secrets, and romance. Musn't forget the romance.

I hope that you do decide to go forth into the world of Lucy Weasley, her few friends and many enemies, because if you do you're in for a few surprises, a cliche or two, and at least some snogging. Musn't forget the snogging either.

Many thanks to anyone or anthying who served as an inspiration, even though you probably have no clue who you are.

And many thanks to you, dear reader, if you decide to go on with this story of mine.

Happy reading!

Disclaimer: JKR is the queen of all things awesome, and I am merely one of her lowly subjects.

Stunning chapter image by lilscratchy @tda

"Er….Lucy?"

I didn't bother looking up.

"What is it?" I asked, my quick notes quill dashing across the parchment as I examined two moving photographs that lay on my desk.

I didn't like it when people I didn't know addressed me by my first name. It was un-business like. Every successful business woman knows that the first key to respect is having a respectable name. And being referred to Lucy when you're a private detective just doesn't quite cut it.

"My name's Peggy Hopkirk," the girl in front of me began.

"I know," I replied curtly, "You made an appointment with my secretary."

Peggy let out a short laugh. I finally looked up at her and raised an eyebrow.

"That's a touching story," I cut across her impatiently, "It really is. But for now I've only got five minutes before I have Potions class myself, so why don't you tell me what the problem is?"

I pointed to the leather arm chair on the opposite side of my desk and she sat in it. I was rather fond of that chair. My cousin Louis and I had stolen it from the staff room when we first set up this office. McGonagall is still looking for it to this day.

Peggy sat down in it, looking uneasy.

I pushed the tissue box slowly towards her. She would probably cry. She looked like a crier.

"Well Callum and I have been going out since the beginning of my fifth year," she began.

I tried to look the least bored as possible. My quick notes quill sped violently across the parchment and I took the opportunity to stop listening and examine the girl in front of me.

Peggy Hopkirk was pretty in a traditional sense. Brown hair, button nose, green eyes and thick lashes. She reached up several times to fiddle with her hair nervously. Her skirt was too short, obviously hoisted up around her waist to attract attention. She'd undone three top buttons on her school shirt. I almost rolled my eyes. No wonder this girl's boyfriend had gone astray. She practically screamed desperation.

She had started sniffing by now. I edge the box of tissues further towards her.

"I mean, I thought it was forever, you know?" Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes, and her voice became whinier.

I coughed, "Who did you say was your boyfriend was again?"

She gulped down the fresh round of tears, "Callum Davies."

I almost snorted with laughter. Clearly the girl didn't have a shred of common sense. If you think that you're going to spend forever with Callum Davies, then you've got another thing coming.

"Anyway, he's been coming late to meal times, and he said he's been busy for the past two Hogsmede visits," Peggy continues, as she pulls the tissue box further towards her.

It looked like I was going to be late for Potions again.

"So why do you need proof?" I asked, "Why not dump him?"

Peggy's lip trembled, "B-but what if he's not?"

I ignored that and got up from my desk, "I'll have your answer by tomorrow."

She stood up and readjusted her clothing nervously, "Really? So soon?"

"Yes," I answered, "It'll be two galleons and six sickles. To be payed upfront."

At first she looked reluctant to pay that much, but I wasn't going to budge.

"I didn't expect you to be so…" she trailed off, clearly the courage to speak her mind had failed her.

I ignored that too. It wasn't the first time someone had been surprised to find that the rumors were true. That Lucy Weasley was just as mean and cold as everyone said she was.

She glanced once more over my blonde hair, my clear blue eyes, still looking surprised.

People are constantly fooled by the angelic appearance. They think either one of two things. That I'm dumb, or that I'm as sweet as sugar. They're almost disappointed when I don't follow the stereotype.

Peggy reached into her school bag and got out the money. I waited patiently as she counted out the sickles. Once she had it she put it into my outstretched palm. I slid it into the cash box on my desk and locked it.

"I can fit you in around four tomorrow," I said, "It'll give me enough time to develop the pictures."

Peggy swallowed, "O-Ok."

She left, passing my secretary Millie Moore, a Ravenclaw fifth year, on her way out. As the door shut behind her Millie shot me a meaningful look.

"You should be nicer to your clients," she warned, "Do you want to lose business?"

I shrugged, "Can you think of any other private investigators in this school? Trust me, people will never stop being this paranoid."

"If you were a little more sympathetic, your reputation wouldn't be quite so crummy."

Ah, she must have been referring to my reputation of being an evil bitch. I rolled my eyes, "Who said I have any interest in rebuilding my reputation?"

Millie sighed, obviously giving up, and she went back to reading this week's issue of the Hogwart's grapevine.

"So, what's the latest news?" I asked her, as I slid my potions text book into my bag.

"Gregory Ackerly and Freya Sands are now dating," she said, flicking lazily through the pages, looking for information.

I rolled my eyes, "They're only reporting this now?"

Honestly, Dai Evans, the editor in chief of the grapevine, and her main investigator Fergus Scamander, were always behind on the latest gossip. I had known about Gregory Ackerly and Freya Sands for several weeks.

Millie looked at me scornfully, "If you know so much, you should just investigate for the grapevine, instead of complaining that they're always behind."

Ah, Millie. She was one of the few people who weren't scared of me. I swung my bag over my shoulder, "There's a difference between what I do, and what they do, Millie. I spy on them, and I keep their secrets a secret. Fergus Scamander spies on them, and then Dai Evans publishes their secrets for the world to hear."

Millie shrugged and muttered, "At least they don't get cash for it."

I reached for the door knob, pretending I hadn't heard her. I looked over my shoulder and yelled into the dark room, where Louis was developing our latest pictures, "Lou! We've got another late night! Eight o'clock, bring provisions!"

* * *

"Can't people just get it over with and snog?" I asked Louis over my shoulder, "It's past midnight and I have a charms test tomorrow."

"It shouldn't be for too much longer," he reassured me sleepily, "They've been going at it for over an hour."

"Exactly," I murmured, "You'd think they'd get bored after sucking face for that long."

I lifted the warm cup of coffee to my lips and drank, keeping my eyes fixated on the broom closet door, behind which two people were surreptitiously snogging.

I heard the sound of gentle snoring behind me.

"Oi! Louis!" I hissed, "Wake up!"

When he didn't stir I picked up my heavy charms book and hit him hard on the arm.

He gave out a sharp cry of surprise and shot upwards, the stack of papers that had been balanced on his knees falling to the floor.

"Honestly Lou," I sighed, taking out my wand and levitating the papers back into place, "You'll wake up the whole castle."

He glowered at me, "Next time try using a lighter object to wake me up. Like a pillow for instance."

"Stop falling asleep on the job and I might be a little nicer."

Louis sat up properly, leaning his back against the stone wall so that he wouldn't be tempted, "Remind me why you're my favorite cousin?"

"I'm brilliant."

"Of course, can't believe it slipped my mind."

"Neither can I. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"What can I do to make it up to you, oh wise one?"

"You can read me the information again. It'll help keep you awake."

He rolled his eyes and lifted his wand over the pile of paper. A small light appeared at the tip, illuminating the small alcove in which we had settled in for the night.

"Peggy Hopkirk. Hufflepuff Fifth year. Girlfriend of Callum Davies. Sixth year Slytherin. They got together last summer. She thinks he's been cheating on her since they got back to school. He probably has."

I yawned. "I'm always expecting something a little more interesting. And something not quite so easy."

Louis rolled his eyes again - he was quite the master of eye-rolling techniques- and chuckled, "Arrogance is never an attractive quality."

I elbowed him, "Sometimes it is. How many times have we investigated a case that involves a weepy girlfriend who's dating an arrogant boyfriend, who's always shagging his potions partner behind her back?"

Louis shrugged, "Too many times to count."

I nodded, "I'm bored. Honestly, though, why is that people always think it's a good idea to date a person who's full of themselves? It only ends in tears."

"Well that explains why you're not dating anyone," Louis said.

I elbowed him again for good measure, but he was right. I was too arrogant for my own good, and I liked it that way. What's wrong with a witch believing in her own brilliance?

Everything, apparently. Boys only date spineless girls who will forgive them for cheating and will turn a blind eye toward their indiscretions.

I think that every man, woman and child should face the facts. Relationships just don't work.

Sure, there's the exciting build up where school girls, and even sometimes school boys, gush to their best friends about how wonderful he or she is. There's the period after you start dating, when you can't keep your hands off one another. But after that thrill dies down, it's all downhill from there.

It starts when she's complaining too much about how Professor Binn's gave her a 'T' on her essay, which was, like, totally unfair. Or it starts when he's too interested in his hobbies, and stops paying her a decent amount of attention.

People quickly get bored and people need the thrill.

And the only way they can get that, without the painful, and apparently unnecessary task of breaking up with the person who you used to think about constantly, and now can't stand the sight of, is by cheating.

The funny thing is that this not only provides a thrill for the cheater, but also the cheat-ee. They now have something new to obsess over. Are their loved ones cheating? And if they already know that, who are they cheating with?

The chances are they already know that as well. But sometimes they won't believe it until they get solid proof.

And that's where I come in.

"Stop whining about the case," Louis said, taking another sip from his flask to keep himself conscious, "With the money from this one you'll have enough money to buy that new lens."

That information cheered me up a little. I smiled fondly down at my camera, stroking the edges as though it were my child. Louis was my associate, my partner. But this camera was my god send.

Louis disapproves of what he calls my 'inappropriate relationship' with my camera. I suppose he doesn't appreciate being ranked below a piece of metal.

I loved everything about my camera. The shape, the dull black colour, even the click it made every time a shot is captured. When I got it as a twelfth birthday present I carried it with me everywhere, taking pictures of anything that seemed interesting.

The first time I realized I could make a career out of taking photographs was when I rounded a corner one afternoon, snapping away at my camera. I accidentally captured a picture of Henry Watkins, who was my older sister Molly's boyfriend, kissing a girl who wasn't Molly.

Henry saw me take the photo, and afterwards he begged me to not tell Molly. When I refused he offered me a lot of money.

So I did what any normal person would do. I took the money and showed Molly the evidence anyway.

After accidentally taking a few other photos of various other student's indiscretions, I discovered that I had quite the talent for catching people at their weakest moments.

* * *

At around 2 a.m. I sighed and looked down at my charms text book. The words stared eerily out of the page in the wand light.

"Why did I take charms?" I muttered.

"Because Professor Flitwick is the only teacher who actually likes you," Louis reminded me, "And that's just because you're in Ravenclaw."

I chuckled.

"Teacher's pet," I teased.

"You're just jealous," he laughed.

Louis is possibly the only one of my relatives whose company I enjoy. All of my other cousins have been sorted into Gryffindor. Louis and I, two of the last Weasley's to enter Hogwarts, were sorted into Ravenclaw. Family love stops right about there.

The probability of someone already knowing, dating or despising one of my many, many relatives is extremely likely, but I'm probably one of the less famous ones. The reason for this is that my dad is known throughout the family as Percy-stick-up-his-arse-Weasley.

How can I compete with Al or Rose, whose parents saved the wizarding world, when the mere presence of my father is dreaded by anyone with a sense of humor?

The answer is I don't. I don't compete because I have accepted that I will not be in the spotlight nearly as much as them, as well as the fact that I will be nowhere near as popular. Louis has accepted the fact that he will always be known as 'that hot veela girl's younger brother'. We have moved on.

Rose and Albus, now that James, Fred and Roxanne have left school, are pretty much the elite of the elite. They would be popular even if they didn't want to be. My cousins are known around school as 'those Weasley's' with their dramatic love lives and their scandalous secrets, whereas Louis and I are pretty much invisible.

Their popularity makes sense. They're all clever, beautiful and rich. That's like catnip for fan girls.

"There are times when I love my job," I muttered, my head was beginning to ache with tiredness, "And this is not one of those times."

Louis had fallen asleep again so I gently prodded him, wanting to avoid another surprised yell that would make my ear drums burst.

He opened his eye lids and peered out at me.

"Can't we just go back to the dorms?" he implored.

I was desperate to go back, thinking of my warm bed, with it's soft pillow and comfortable sheets, but I pushed the idea to the back of my mind.

"No," I gritted my teeth, "We've come this far. It would be a waste."

"I bet they've gone to sleep," Louis grumbled, "I know Callum Davies. He can barely be bothered to show up for class, let alone shag some random girl for over four hours."

"She must be a good shag," I said simply.

Louis looked revolted.

My words were followed by a gentle creaking sound and to my joy the broom closet that we'd been surveilling for over four hours opened and someone emerged.

I immediately spun around, camera at the ready. Through the view finder I watched as the broom cupboard door opened.

Ah, there he was. Peggy Hopkirk's boyfriend, Callum Davies.

He walked out into the corridor, looking his usual, brooding, mysterious self.

It just wouldn't be normal if we didn't have a rich, clever and up-himself jack-ass to fill up these corridors with his massive ego. But we do, and Callum Davies is our man.

Davies mostly keeps to himself, it helps to create an aura of mystery and danger around him. Somehow I've managed to catch him with many other guy's girlfriends. But I suppose no one can resist a bad boy.

However, the truth is Callum Davies isn't in the least bit popular. He doesn't play quidditch, girls don't fall all over his good looks, and he certainly doesn't have a way with the ladies. Why? Because he is quite terrifying.

Rumours circulate about him every day. The last one I heard was that he sold one of his kidneys on the wizarding black market so he could pay a set of dark magical skulls from Borgin and Burkes. Which is by no means the worst thing I've been told about him.

I took several shots of him as he said something inaudible to the person still inside the cupboard.

"Alright lady," I muttered, "Show yourself."

A shadow appeared, followed by a girl. I immediately started clicking away madly, before I finally realized who I was taking a photograph of.

"Well, look who it is," Louis murmured.

I lowered the camera. No, my lens had not deceived me, even if it was outdated and needed to be replaced.

The girl leaning in to kiss Callum quickly goodnight was none other than my cousin, Rose Weasley.